Disassociation
by Clarke-Sensei
Summary: During an incursion on Earth by Galactus and his forces, Peter Parker suffers a critical malfunction, and is sent reeling to what he believes is the future. A future ravaged by war, where the lines of morality are restricted to gray. This timeline tests his concepts of right and wrong, and will have to find either his way home or a way to carry the burden of the life he has lost.


**Hey guys, I've had this idea floating around in my little head for a while now. Like a few stories I've had, my first attempt was thwarted due to a beginning that really didn't work with me all that well.**

 **I rewrote this, namely the last few paragraphs. It needed a different ending and such.**

 **Current time, Earth-616**

"Peter… You should really go home, or come over." He adjusted his mask silently, obscuring the heavy bags under his eyes.

"I know, Aunt May. I'll be back when I got everything sorted out, okay?" The clearly audible huff made Peter really regret accepting that call from Richards, but he knew that it wasn't something ignorable if Reed had put in the effort to call.

"You get home safe, okay?" He hummed in acknowledgement, and cut off the call. He surveyed the view from his perch on one of the many large apartment buildings in Manhattan, the Baxter Building was still quite a few blocks away at the moment. Not that it meant much to him, he could easily get over there in a few minutes at the most. He wanted to spend some time relaxing beforehand, or get something to eat. The sudden thought of food elicited a growl from his stomach, and he knew just who to stop by. It was a convenient stop as well, only being a block or two from his current perch.

"Hope Stan will slip me one, cause I forgot my wallet." With the all too familiar thwip of his webbing, he launched off, and started swinging towards the kindly old man at the hotdog stand. At least the people were kind enough to give him a landing zone. As deftly as he had done time and time again, he landed in the midst of the hustling crowd.

"Heya, Spidey! Come for a Coney?"

"That I did, but uhh. Forgot my wallet on my way out of the house." The old man shrugged, and passed a hotdog.

"No problem, just keep coming back, alright?" Hotdog in hand, he nodded, and zipped up the side of the building.

"Thanks, Stan!" He planted his feet on the wall, and moved his mask up. He always enjoyed overlooking the streets while he ate, always something interesting to realize that he had saved all of these people at one time or another. He did finish up the hotdog fairly quickly, and resumed his whole business to get over to Richards. Luckily, Johnny was waiting on the balcony for him, but he wasn't looking too excited.

"Not looking so hot there, Johnny!" The man just shrugged, and beckoned him in. Stowing away the humor, he followed in, seeing the whole family assembled at one of the many large screens that took up the room. It didn't take a genius to tell what the problem was, seeing a large purple helmeted head keyed up on the screen.

"So, Purple World Eater is making for another round at the Earth Buffet?" Reed nodded, but something else was off. Especially if they needed to call him for it.

"He's been gorging himself as of late, whole solar systems destroyed in a few hours. I think it is also safe to say he has been forming a larger contingent of Heralds as well." Peter nodded, getting the gist of how this was going to go.

"I've begun making gauntlets that will allow us to leach the cosmic power from both Heralds and Galactus himself, if the need arises. I've already finished fabricating yours, seeing as you might be on the frontlines." Ben lumbered over, gauntlets in hand. They were fairly slim, the gloves missing most of their material. They were made with his abilities in mind.

"Thank you, Reed. One question though, where do I dump out the excess? These don't look necessarily large in the capacity department."

"Seeing how a large deposit of cosmic energy may be a prime target for them, the gauntlets will vent it out slowly too disperse it evenly. It would be in far too small of a concentration for reabsorption. That is also the drawback." Peter nodded, slipping them on.

"If I don't give them time to drain, they can go critical." Franklin nodded.

"Alrighty then. I think I get the gist of it, anything else I should know?"

"They'll be here in a few days." There was a collective shrug, and Peter slipped the gauntlets into the pack on his back. He gave them a simple goodbye, because he had a few people to warn beforehand. In person was the only way he was going to deliver this news. He silently huffed to himself, seeing as it was just a few weeks prior that the Sinister Six had gotten up to their usual business.

 _Can't get a break, can I?_ First on his list was his aunt, but he needed to drop off his stuff at home. It also occurred to him that he should get his Mark 3 armor out, which meant a trip to Horizon. Still, he needed to tell people.

 **October 20** **th** **, 2556, Uncatalogued Earth Variant**

"Alright, men. Lock and load, we got Covenant splinters embedded in Forerunner installations on Halifax-7. Reports say we got a small contingent of Grunts with a few Chieftains leading them." The squad of ODSTs gave a resounding war cry, a few stamping their boots on the cargo holds floor. Their Pelicans were fresh out of the repair docks, leaving the interior smelling of antiseptic. Not that any of them minded, it would probably smell a lot worse on the return trip.

"We got a special guest joining us today as well, men!" The commanding officer directed everyone to the rear of the cargo hold, where an aptly armored Spartan was leisurely gnawing on a strip of what could only be some kind of jerky.

"This is SPARTAN-IV, Staff Sergeant Sarah Nebelow. For this mission, she'll be running Point man for Odin team. Breaking down their defenses, and beating the Chieftains like the drums they used to have!" A round of war cries went out again, and the Spartan herself even offered a hearty roar.

"Let's just hope that their lives will keep going steady like a good drum line…" She whispered. Nonetheless, she adjusted her M45E shotgun, affixing another few rounds of 8 gauge to the shell carriers on her armor. She also adjusted her special carrier, holding her flechette rounds. Each shell was packed with 35 tungsten darts, her favorite rounds for dealing with grunts and lightly armored enemies. Until the time called for it, she'll be sticking with the standard buckshot though.

The pilot gave them their ETA around half an hour, and she decided to pop her helmet on.

"Aw, why don't you keep the helmet off for now? Not like we have any other pretty Spartans around here." She blew off the comment, and flipped through her visors alternate modes. She couldn't help but watch everyone continue on with their thermal signatures blazing in shades of red and orange. It was only their faces of course, their armor had the standard thermal camouflage layer.

"Alright, Spartan. Get Odin ready!"

"SIR, YES SIR!" She popped her shotgun onto her back, and hopped to her feet. She lugged up a block of det-packs, and slipped a few MREs into a few of the suit's empty compartments. A good fight always made her hungry.

 **The day before estimated arrival of Galactus, Earth-616**

"I know you don't want to see me right now, but this is important." Peter had asked Mary Jane to meet him, not fully expecting her to show up. Things hadn't been great since Octavius had relinquished control of Peter's body. She did show up though, and it was obvious that she had something to say as well.

"I could tell by how you were talking on the phone." They were sitting in Central Park, both dressed casually. It was fairly quiet in between them for a little while, getting used to each other's presence again.

"It won't change anything, but Earth's going to be attacked by Galactus again… Just thought you should know." She nodded, a hint of a smile on her face.

"Why call me, Peter?" He gave her a deadpan look, but shifted back to staring at his hands.

"How's life treating you?" He shrugged, offering a bit of a forced smile. He knew that it wouldn't convince her, not that he could lie to her. Either way, she continued on.

"With anyone?" Another shrug.

"Thought I saw yo-"

"She left. Got fed up with my excuses." The redhead nodded, expecting as much.

"Could you take Aunt May out of town? Everything around here is going to be a warzone."

"Yeah, of course." They shared a small smile, neither of them really knowing anything to talk about. That was until Peter's phone began to ring, and shattered the peace.

"It's Richards. Gotta go, MJ." Peter was about to head out, but MJ snagged his sleeve.

"Be careful, okay?" He nodded, slightly taken back. She only used that tone when she was worried that he'd get seriously hurt. Maybe it was just a remembrance of old times, or the still lingering love for the woman, but he pulled her into a hug. Nothing flashy or dramatic, just a simple embrace.

"Always." They separated, and Peter left without another word. Three words danced on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to say them. Not after all he had put her through.

He slipped his phone out again, and dialed Reed.

"Peter, the Guardians and assembled Nova Corps just informed us that they've passed Pluto. They'll be here within a few hours." Peter turned right around, ending the call as he did so. MJ was facing the other way.

"MJ, get to Aunt May's now. Galactus is going to get here in a few hours." She looked back, nodding before breaking off into a run. Peter just needed to get ready now, and that meant a trip to his apartment.

His trip back was expedient, seeing as the roads were strangely vacant. He had a feeling that Reed had sent out a news report to inform everyone, which was just fine. Awaiting him in the hidden compartment of his room was a further modified Mark 3 armor, the cosmic gauntlets integrated into the already slightly bulbous gauntlets of the suit. He had redesigned the suit so any components that he didn't need were replaced with internal cosmic reserves, dramatically increasing the amount of energy he could absorb. It also proved to be more advantageous since he could add a better venting system to the entire system. One more thing he did was modify his web shooters, allowing them to use the cosmic energy as a more effective snare or like a power cable. He also felt that a change of color might be due, so he emulated the scheme of his Sonic suit with blue as the main variation.

Suited up and rearing for a fight, he swung over to the Baxter Building. Naturally, he saw a collection of heroes, outfitted with similar tools.

 _Things must be that bad, huh?_ He just couldn't fathom how the fight would go, even with this many people joining in. Fear settled deep in his gut, and he fished out his phone. He went to photos, and started sifting through his personal ones. The oldest on there was a photo of him and Gwen, eating a small lunch of fries. The ones that followed were of varying people and scenes. His aunt, MJ, and all the others he'd been with and lost. He did return to three images in particular though. The last photo of him and Gwen where she had just plopped onto him as they watched a movie, the most recent birthday party of Aunt May's, and the final picture was one that he never remembered taking. It looked like a wedding photo, his wedding to MJ. It always struck a chord for him, never fully understanding why. That was the only photo of her that he couldn't stand deleting. He didn't bother wondering about it anymore, because he could feel the maelstrom encroaching.

Even as the others talked, Peter watched as the sky darkened, and silvery figures descended upon his city. There was no more time he could spare, and with the others filing out, he sprinted onto the balcony. With the fluidity that he'd grown so accustomed to, he launched into the sky, and swung head first into the oncoming storm.

 **October 20** **th** **, 2556, Halifax-7**

"How's everyone doing?" Sarah overviewed Odin team. No injuries or casualties yet, seeing as Grunts were their only resistance so far. She knew everything from here will be more difficult, especially with a small group of Chieftains on the loose.

"Alright. We are going to keep charging forward, men. Keep the flanks clear of Grunts, and call out if you spot an ape!" All of the men nodded, hoisting up their weapons again. Many of them were still itching for a good fight, not that she blamed them.

"Let's move." Odin team continued on further into the base, passing a multitude of empty corridors. Each successive one only made the team more and more nervous, the constant jostling of their gear the only noise ringing out. Sarah eventually told them to hold up, and switched to her M6H. She was going to scout out ahead, and see what the situation was.

Without another word, she quietly began to move ahead, her team keeping themselves on alert just in case it was a trap. Another few empty off-shoots passed by, and then there was a large bulkhead. It was safe to say that the apes would be in there, just waiting for some humans to stumble in. Luckily, she had prepared, and began setting det-packs at various support beams around the door. They weren't good enough to break down the door, but they would be good for a trap of her own. With the traps set, she opened the door, and jumped out of the way.

"FILT-" The roar of a Chieftain was cut short as a det-pack blew, blowing off its leg and shredding the rest of its body. Another one barreled through, assuming only one had been set. Another boom, another dead ape. Sarah radioed her men to charge forward, and loaded her shotgun with the flechette rounds. Finally pumping a shell into the chamber, she popped out from behind cover, and begun unloading all 12 shells. She was expecting all of this to be over very soon.

 **Earth-616**

"HOW MANY MORE OF THESE GUYS ARE THERE?" Peter was yelling at no one in particular, weaving in and out of blasts of energy. The fight had been going in his favor, until the big man himself decided to join the fray. Whole swaths of the Manhattan skyline had been obliterated, leveled beyond recognition. The only saving grace was a decently sized force field that Richards made to counteract such an attack.

It also didn't help that a few of the other fighters had been taken out of the fight. Powerhouses from the Avengers, X-men, and the like had to be dragged out before anything else could happen to them. Luckily, he had a bit of help at the moment from Tony.

"How's your reserves?" Peter slipped a quick thumbs up, before belting another chromed out cretin in the head. Using his other hand, he began to drain what energy he could from the Herald, but disengaged early. Another one had decided to try and pick him off. Using the immobilized man as a platform, he kicked off, and webbed them together. This was where he'd put his web upgrade to the test, hitting the small switch on his wrist. Instantly, both of them seized up, and the reserve indicator on his HUD starting filling up.

 _That's great._ He didn't waste any more time, and slammed their heads together, incapacitating both of them. There was still quite a few left before Galactus could be targeted, but that's when he saw another beam welling up on the tip of Galactus's finger.

 _I don't think I'll be able to get to the shield in time…_ He glanced around, spotting a few conductive pieces. The usual web of electrical wires, a collection of water tanks, and a few masses of scrap metal. It wouldn't work out as well as he'd like, but it'd have to do.

 _Hopefully._ Without missing a beat, he began assembling a small dome out of the sheet metal, using his webbing to hold it all together. He finished it off by tethering it to the water towers, hoping it will disperse enough of the discharge. Not that he was necessarily filled with optimism at the moment.

He dove into the dome, and sealed it. It was only moments after that that the small cracks in the sheet metal let blinding purple light through. Peter attached himself to the ground, knowing full well that the ground would be collapsing. He held on for dear life, shutting his eyes as everything began to shake violently.

 _C'mon, C'mon._ He expected to hear the shearing of the metal, but what he did hear was a far more terrifying noise. His reservoir indicator was flashing red, a critical overload. There was nowhere to dump the excess, locked in the little cage of his own making.

"No." In the next instant, a blue light engulfed him, and he slipped into an eerie abyss.

 **Halifax-7**

"Ramirez, put two HE rounds in the middle of those shit-shuckers!" Despite her earlier enthusiasm, the remaining chieftains weren't being as dull as the two that she had slipped up with the det-packs. They had slipped into a defensive position with a set of hard-light shields shielding them, and were using Bruteshots to keep them pinned down. There had been a Grunt with a fuel rod cannon, but it had the honor of receiving a sniper round to its methane pack.

As instructed, one of the men leaned out of cover, holding a rocket launcher on his shoulder.

"FIRING!" Sarah watched as nothing happened.

"Huh?" The soldier, Ramirez, stared dumbly at the weapon without moving into cover.

"Get out of the kill zone, shit-head!" She leaned out of cover, and saw something even more perplexing than a malfunctioning rocket launcher.

The ante-chamber where the Brutes had been holding up was illuminated with a purple light, and all of their attention was placed in the middle of the room. Sarah, not wanting to waste this opportunity, quietly directed her men to move up. The enemies were so distracted by whatever was happening that Odin team was able to sneak up to the Hard-light shields, and bypass them.

"Alright. Hit 'em hard, and hit 'em fast." Leading the pack, Sarah whipped around the corner, 12 rounds of 8 gauge flechette ready to fly from her gun. Not that she winded up needing them, seeing as all of the brutes were flat on their asses, unconscious as far as she could tell. Standing in the midst of them was an odd black humanoid with lines of blue forming a vaguely spider like shape on its chest. Not taking the chance, she kept her shotgun raised as she approached.

"Where the hell am I?" The thing looked around, and absently scratched its head. To say she was surprised to hear it speak English was an understatement.

"You can put your gun down." It turned to her, raising its hands nonthreateningly. She wasn't so naïve to drop her guard, seeing as how this thing had just taken down what looked like 7 Chieftains without a single gun on it.

"What are you?" It laughed, and moved its hands to the side of its head. She tensed, expecting some sort of trick. A hiss came from the creature, and the façade was broken.

"Human." True to its word, what lied under the helmet was a brown-haired male, probably early thirties. Her paranoia wasn't put to rest, but she at least knew what she was dealing with.

"Are you ONI? A SPARTAN?" He shook his head, throwing his helmet back on shortly after.

"I'm Spider-Man." Peter had a pretty good feeling that they had no idea who he was, just like he had no idea where he was.

"Question. Where am I?" The armored person in front of him shrugged, not caring to put up her gun. In an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, and the last thing he wanted was a gun being pointed at him. He decided to place along though, not wanting to rub these people the wrong way.

"Halifax-7. Forerunner bunker."

"Yeah. No idea what any of that means besides a planet and a place." He could feel the scowl emanating from the opposing person, but it didn't bother him.

"Could I ask you something else?" Another armored shrug.

"When is it?"

"October 20th, 2556. Why?" Peter ran a hand over his helmet, and started pacing around. It hadn't been the first time he had ever dealt with time travel and interdimensional travel, but at the moment, there seemed no viable way back. Not that he had looked around all that well.

"I'm getting the impression that it wasn't the time you were hoping for, was it?" Peter nodded, and dug his heels into the ground. His only option left was returning to Earth, probably. Hopefully one of the longer living heroes would still be around, or a family member of old friends.

"Were you kept in cryo for too long?" He shook his head.

"I must've time-traveled. Not the first time." His comment trailed off as he leisurely walked around, looking over everything else in his immediate vicinity. It didn't last long though, as sudden shots began to ring out in the chamber.

"What the hell are you doing?" The armored woman had wandered over to the massive apes that he had incapacitated, and put an 8-gauge shell's worth of darts straight through their heads. She didn't even acknowledge him, which only left him with one option. Before she could execute another, Peter disarmed her. The woman was quick on the uptake, and pulled a pistol as soon as the shotgun left her hands.

She was quick, but he had fought faster. Another line of web snagged the slide of the gun, and ripped away it from the soldier.

"C'mon, not here to hurt you." Peter watched as she tried to continue her assault, pulling a combat knife from the upper portion of her chest piece. This time, he webbed her hand to her chest piece.

"Are you just hell-bent on hurting me? I can do this all day, you know." She only grunted in protest, doing her best to tear away the material. As much as he wanted to keep messing around with her, he had things to do and people to see again.

"Hey, can you just take me to your CO, or XO? Whatever you call 'em." He didn't get a proper reply. The only thing he could really tell was that she was glaring at him.

"Take me to your leader." That's when she did something surprising.

"Fine." Abruptly, the soldier turned and began to march way. It was safe to say that she was plotting something.

"Ramirez, I need you to take the squad a few turns back, and set up an ambush. Unknown hostile, possibly human. Has me at a disadvantage. You'll know it when you see it." Sarah had shut off her external speakers after "giving in", she wasn't going to risk the security of the mission just because she underestimated the other person.

 _Sorta hard to imagine that someone could get the advantage, especially when they aren't a II._ It was inhumanly fast, and whatever the material that bound her hand wasn't going to budge at all. This wasn't something she was capable of handling herself.

 _Ramirez better not fuck this up._

 **Chapter 2 will be here as soon as I can make the time to write it up.**


End file.
